


may the bridges i have burned light my way back home

by acollectionofdaydreams



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Divergent, Exes to Lovers, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Getting Back Together, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M, No Beast, No Beast AU, POV Alternating, antics, idiots to lovers, romcom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:34:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22107157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acollectionofdaydreams/pseuds/acollectionofdaydreams
Summary: Quentin and Eliot dated at Brakebills but broke up two years ago. Now, they find themselves on separate romantic getaways on the same tiny Greek island. They're not aware of this fact, but Julia and Margo are. This twist of fate just might change everything for them and their best friends.
Relationships: Initial Eliot/Javier, Initial Qualice, Margo Hanson/Julia Wicker, Quentin Coldwater & Julia Wicker, Quentin Coldwater/Eliot Waugh
Comments: 43
Kudos: 149





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was not planned to be my first WIP of 2020 at all, but here we are!! The premise of this fic is inspired by this tumblr post which I found hilarious and immediately had to write: https://eliotapologist.tumblr.com/post/190023883987/firebirdscratches-whitepeopletwitter-i-really
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

“Jesus, I thought you were just going on vacation, not moving to Greece.”

Quentin wadded up the t-shirt in his hands and threw it at Julia, who squeaked and darted out of the way, letting it land in the hall. She laughed and stuck her tongue out at him as she entered the room undeterred, half jumping over piles of clothes.

He said, “Well maybe if you’d be a good best friend and help me pack, this would be going better.”

She sighed theatrically as she crawled onto his bed and laid down on her stomach. He’d been sitting on the floor in the middle of his suitcase and pretty much every item of clothing he owned for the last hour at least. He leaned back onto his hands and looked up at her.

“Well?” he asked.

Her eyes scanned the mess.

“You need to roll your clothes for starters,” she said. “You’ll fit way more that way instead of just cramming them in.”

He frowned at her then down at the suitcase. Huh. She probably had a point. He took everything out, undoing his entire hour of work, and started rolling it instead. 

“Q, are you sure this trip is a good idea?” she asked.

He sighed as he crammed a rolled up shirt in the corner of his suitcase.

“I’m sure I don’t have a choice unless I wanna be single,” he said.

Julia didn’t say anything, but she was wearing that look of quiet disapproval she got sometimes. The one that meant she thought he was wrong but she was going to let him figure that out for himself. It had always made his hackles rise, ever since they were kids. He would almost prefer if she argued with him so that he could fight her back on it. That was exactly why she didn’t though, he knew. He pushed his shoulders back and didn’t meet her eyes as he continued to sort through his clothes. He was right. He didn’t have a choice. 

The week long trip to Andros, a tiny Greek island off the coast of Athens, was the last ditch effort in his attempt to save his relationship with Alice. 

They’d been fighting for weeks. Months really. It was tolerable at first because of course all couples argue, but the longer it went on, the less normal it became. The last fight had been the worst one. They’d all but broken up for good, and he’d really started to wonder if maybe they just didn’t work together.

The thing was though, he really liked Alice. They’d been sort of friends/acquaintances for years, but it wasn’t until they’d both found themselves working at Brakebills for the last year that they’d decided to take a shot at being more. She was smart and capable and sharp-witted but kind when she needed to be. She was so smart that she’d taken on a research position at Brakebills, which hadn’t even been a thing before it was created for her, to study a proposed Grand Unified Theory of Magic. She was the best of the best everywhere she went, and he found himself wanting to rise to the occasion too. Sometimes though, or most of the time, trying to be with her produced more friction than harmony.

It had been him that suggested that maybe they were just stressed and needed some time away for themselves. Surely a week on a secluded Mediterranean island would allow them to unwind and remember what had drawn them to each other in the first place, right? Alice wasn’t so sure, but she’d agreed in the end.

So, here he was, packing for a week in Greece while Julia fretted across from him. 

“Did you pack your sunscreen?” 

He glanced quickly around him before muttering, “Oh shit. I didn’t buy any.”

Julia smiled at him and shook her head.

“You’re a disaster, you know that, right?” she asked.

He grinned at her. 

“You say that like we’re not both known bisexual disasters.”

She shrugged as she stood up.

“Never claimed I wasn’t one too,” she said.

She ruffled his hair as she walked past him and he asked, “Where are you going?”

She said, “I’m getting my sunscreen for you to take to Greece, dummy. Not like I’ve used it much here.”

God, he really didn’t know what he would do without Jules. Probably come home from this trip extremely sunburned at the very least. She announced her return by dropping her bottle of SPF 50 in his suitcase before flopping down across his bed again.

“Thanks, you’re a lifesaver,” he said.

She turned her head to look at him with a dimpled grin.

“I am the angel protecting your future, Coldwater.”

He snorted a laugh as he went back to deciding between two button ups. He figured a romantic getaway would involve at least one night out, which meant he needed to pack a nice outfit or two.

“Take the red one, looks better with your eyes,” Julia said.

He looked between them again and shrugged before tossing the green one aside.

“Thanks,” he said.

They were quiet for another moment while he packed and she stared at his ceiling. He’d always appreciated that his friendship with Julia was one where silences were comfortable. Some people needed to talk to avoid the silence, but Quentin had always hated that. Mostly because he usually ended up rambling and sounding stupid, which resulted in an even more awkward silence than the original one he’d been trying to fill. 

He tried not to think about the loaded silences his time with Alice had been filled with lately.

After some time, Julia rolled over to face him again and said, “I want, like, hourly updates, you know. If I need to build a portal to Greece and drive the getaway car, I need at least enough notice to get the circumstances right.” 

He rolled his eyes but gave her a grateful smile in response for the sincere concern that was hidden in her joke.

“Well, I won’t have wifi except for at the condo, so don’t freak out if I don’t answer right away,” he explained.

She frowned at him. “You didn’t get an international data plan?”

He shook his head and opened his mouth, but she held out her hand and said, “Here, give me your phone. I think there’s a spell that will unlock it so you can use it anywhere.”

He sighed as he met her eyes.

He said, “Alice and I agreed to not be on our phones as much as possible while we’re there. The point of the trip is to focus on each other and all that.”

“God,” she scoffed, “this trip is sounding like less fun by the second.”

He nodded his head, conceding her point. She leveled him with a more serious look then.

She said, “It’ll be fine, Q. At least if you come back from this and things still aren’t good, you’ll know you tried everything you could.”

“Yeah,” he said, “that’s one way of looking at it.”

Whatever happened, it was going to be a good week. He just had to keep telling himself that.

**~~~**

Two days later and 5,000 miles away, Eliot stepped off of a boat. Well, a ferry to be exact. Javier had whisked him away on this little getaway with the promise of a private jet and a week of luxury, but they’d had to land in Athens and take a ferry because the island was apparently too small for an airport. Oh well, at least it had only been two hours. Eliot had also gotten to use some of that time to stare off into the open water like the dramatic seafarer he’d always wanted to be.

Now though, he brought his rolling suitcase to a stop at his heels on the dock and paused to look around. Growing up in the Midwest, the ocean wasn’t something he was used to, so beach vacations were still somewhat of a novelty for him. The world was quite literally at his fingertips now as a magician, but a tiny, unspoken part of him had never forgotten to be amazed by it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, registering how the salt in the air was almost tangible as it filled his lungs. As he breathed out, it was like he could feel the tension rolling off of him in waves.

It had been a long couple of years. He’d always kind of assumed that having magic would insulate him from the trials and tribulations of being a late twenty-something struggling to find their way in an unjust world. That was how it worked, right? You found your purpose then everything else fell into place. Turns out, not so much. There weren’t enough noble quests to go around, and the magical career options were limited outside of teaching or healing. Neither of those were of interest to him. Instead, he’d found himself bartending at a speakeasy in the East Village for lack of better options.

The speakeasy was the sort of place that attracted the wealthy and the elite. The kind that threw money around in exchange for discretion and well-made drinks. Luckily for Eliot, every drink he made was magically exactly what his patrons had been wishing for. He made enough money to pay his rent for his shared apartment with Margo and had his pick of just about anyone who walked through the doors on any given night. By all means, it was a good life. He’d started to wonder lately, though, just who it was a good life for. He’d imagined a very different life for himself once, but that was… something he didn’t think about.

He’d convinced himself that this time away was what he needed to reset his brain. It didn’t do him any favors to question things he couldn’t change. So, for the next week, none of that existed. It was just him and a beautiful boy in a beautiful place, and that was the only thing that mattered.

Then he felt a hand slide across his lower back, and he opened his eyes with a lazy smile at the man standing in front of him. Eliot had met Javier in Ibiza at Encanto Oculto barely a month prior, and he’d quickly worked his way into Eliot’s hookup rotation. He was great in bed and easy on the eyes and apparently rich enough for impulsive Mediterranean getaways. They both knew what this was, and there were zero expectations between them for more. In short, he was pretty much Eliot’s dream guy these days.

“You ready to see the place I booked for us?” Javier asked.

Eliot looked him up and down with a sly grin. He said, “I’m ready to see the bedroom in the place you booked for us.”

He was rewarded with a mischievous glint in Javier’s eye and a smile as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. He said something in response, but Eliot’s attention was momentarily diverted over his shoulder as he heard a group of tourists laugh raucously. 

When he looked to see what they were doing, he saw they were standing underneath a sign with the name of the island and taking a group photo. A wide smile grew on his face, and he turned back to Javier.

“Let’s go take a cheesy picture in front of the welcome sign so I can make Margo jealous that she’s stuck in New York,” he said.

“Alright,” Javier agreed.

Javier was easy going and agreeable to most things Eliot suggested, which Eliot also liked about him. 

Grabbing his hand, he dragged him over to the sign. He found a nice enough looking tourist to hand his phone off to and stepped in close to Javier to wrap his arm around his waist as they both smiled. 

“Perfect,” he said.

He posted the photo to his Instagram story while Javier found them a taxi. This was going to be a spectacular week.

**~~~**

Back in New York, Julia was stretched out across her sofa while Netflix played on the TV. It had already been long enough since Quentin left that she was starting to remember why she didn’t want to live alone. The apartment was too quiet, and she had no one to share her popcorn and her dumb comments about the movie she was watching with. A full week of this and she might just go insane.

She’d been through just about every social media app on her phone at least once already, but she circled back to Instagram just for the hell of it. There were a few new updates on her story tab at least since the last time she looked. She clicked on the first one, which was a friend from Columbia she hadn’t seen in awhile. She let it play all the way through and didn’t close out of it when the next one started to load. The next one was Quentin, who had posted the same goofy selfie he’d already sent her from in front of his window with the ocean behind him. He’d added his location to the story in a bright blue happy font. She reacted with a heart emoji and let the next story load. When it did, though, she gasped and dropped her phone right on her face, where it hit her on the forehead then bounced onto the floor.

“Fuck!” she squealed into the empty apartment.

She shot up and reached under the coffee table to grab her phone, hurrying to open the app again. She had to scroll to find his story, but when she clicked on the name ‘itseliotbitch’, the same picture popped up. 

Eliot was standing with his arm wrapped around some man and grinning against the backdrop of bright blue water and a ‘Welcome to Andros’ sign.

“Fuck,” she said again.

She opened her text thread to Quentin and typed _CALL ME RIGHT NOW!!!_

When the message didn’t go through, she groaned and threw her head back against the couch. He must not have wifi. She knew that had been a stupid idea. Who goes to a foreign country and purposefully doesn’t have cell phone service?

Then she had another thought. She knew Eliot and Quentin had each other blocked on Instagram so they wouldn’t see the posts, but there was someone else who would be quickly realizing the situation they were in if she hadn’t already. Julia hadn’t talked to her in quite awhile, but she thought this might be a good enough reason to reach out. So, she sent a text.

_Hey, weird question I know, but have you looked at Quentin’s Instagram today?_

She got no response for about five minutes before her phone lit up in her hands.

_Holy fucking Christ on a tortilla chip!!_

Then another one. 

_Does Q know?_

She typed back, _No, I just saw Eliot’s story and tried to warn him, but I can’t reach him._

The next response came through quickly.

_Don’t you say a fucking word to him, Wicker. Text me your address, I’m coming over right the fuck now._

Despite her current state of lowkey panic, Julia laughed in surprise at the message. Margo had always had a way with words, and she felt a pang in her chest as she realized just how much she’d missed her these last two years. She sent her address and sank back into the sofa cushions. She had a feeling this was going to be a _very_ interesting week.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of your comments on the first chapter! I have many shenanigans planned, and I am very excited about this story.

Opening the door to her apartment and watching Margo waltz in like she owned the place made Julia feel like she’d been transported back in time. Back to their Brakebills days when they’d spent more time together than alone and everything had seemed easier.

Margo dropped her purse onto the kitchen table and turned around to give the living room a sweeping glance. A small but pleased smile spread across her face.

“Yep, it’s just as nerd chic as I expected,” she said.

She met Julia’s eyes then, and they both laughed.

“Guilty as charged,” Julia admitted.

Margo wasted no time making herself comfortable. She sat down on the couch where Julia had just been laying and propped her feet up on the coffee table, looking every bit like a queen on her throne.

She turned her head towards Julia and said, “Please tell me that you and Q have something good to drink around here because we’re going to need it.”

“Yeah,” Julia agreed, “I think you’re probably right.”

She went into the kitchen and pulled an unopened bottle of wine out of the cabinet along with two glasses and a corkscrew. Settling herself in the chair diagonal to Margo, she slid one of the glasses her way. Margo picked up the bottle and the corkscrew but paused to inspect the label. She grinned.

“Did Quentin pick this one out?” she asked.

Julia shrugged, “Yeah, I think so.”

Margo popped the cork out of the bottle and poured her glass.

“Thought so,” she said. “It’s El’s favorite brand. Thank God all of our hard work cultivating his palette wasn’t for nothing.”

Julia didn’t know what to say to that, so she just took the bottle and poured her own glass. It was occurring to her for the first time, now that Margo was here and talking to her in the flesh, that this was dangerous territory. She hadn’t really thought twice about involving Margo in the Quentin and Eliot crisis because who could be more involved really? But this wasn’t two years ago, and they weren’t students at Brakebills gossiping about their exams and having barbeques at the Physical Kids Cottage. Was it okay that she’d invited Margo into Q’s space like this, considering the total separation they’d all imposed?

She looked up and across the table at Margo, who was taking a generous sip of her wine. She wasn’t just Q’s ex-boyfriend’s best friend though, and this was Julia’s apartment too. She’d deal with it if Quentin got angry, but she found herself wanting to embrace this bizarre reunion. Somewhat as a surprise, she realized that she’d missed her friend.

“Been a long time,” Margo said, her voice cutting through Julia’s inner conflict.

Julia took a sip of her own glass and set it down.

“You could have called,” she said.

Margo shrugged. “You’ve got a phone too.”

Julia opened her mouth to figure out a response that didn’t sound like an excuse, but Margo saved her.

“It’s okay, I get it,” she said. “Q took you in the divorce, and the two of you took a year long Fillorian sabbatical or whatever. Things got weird. Believe me, I remember.”

Julia nodded as she exhaled.

“Yeah, that’s a nice way of putting it.”

Margo considered her, and Julia tried not to squirm under her focused stare. She’d forgotten that Margo did that. Looked at you like she could see right through you. Finally, Margo settled on a coy smile.

“Missed you though,” she said.

Julia gave her a relieved smile in return.

“Yeah, me too,” she admitted.

The moment lingered for barely a few seconds, and then Margo sat her wine glass down and withdrew her feet to sit up and face her more directly. 

“Welp, we might as well get down to it,” she said, “because something tells me that island is not big enough for all of Q and El’s baggage, and I’m not just talking about all of the clothes that Eliot packed.”

Julia blew a careful breath out of her mouth and placed her hands on her knees as she leaned forward too and nodded.

“Let’s just try to make sure this ends in a way that doesn’t involve us going to Greece,” she said.

**~~~**

Quentin was not having a good time.

He leaned back against the bathroom stall door and closed his eyes. Why the fuck had he booked a cruise again?

Oh that’s right, because he’d thought it sounded romantic to eat dinner on a boat at sunset. How was he supposed to know he’d get horribly seasick? He’d spent a whole month on a boat in Fillory, and this hadn’t happened once. Maybe it was something to do with the physics of the other world or the opium in the air. He’d have to go back to his notes on that later. For now though, he pressed his head against the cool metal and willed the contents of his stomach to stay where they were.

He heard a quiet knock on the door followed by Alice’s voice.

“Q, are you okay in there?” she asked.

He scrubbed a hand over his face.

“Yeah, just give me a minute,” he called.

Satisfied that the worst had passed, he pulled himself up off the floor and washed his hands. He splashed some water over his face while he was at it, rinsing out his mouth as best he could, and looked at his reflection in the mirror overhead. Between his jetlagged dark circles and his sickly pale skin, he looked fucking awful. He tried his best at a smile before sighing. 

Resigned to his fate, he opened the bathroom door and offered a weary smile at Alice standing on the other side. She gave him a look that was full of pity.

“You look terrible,” she said bluntly.

He snorted, “Thanks.”

She smiled at him and reached for his hand.

She said, “Come on, let’s go to the bar and get you a ginger ale. We’re headed back to shore anyways, so you won’t have to suffer for too much longer.”

He allowed her to lead him to the upper deck and sat down at an open table for two as she went to get their drinks. He directed his gaze to the horizon and fidgeted as he focused on his breath. This vacation could not be going less like he’d wanted so far. To be fair, they’d only been there for barely a day, but from the moment they’d left New York, it hadn’t been easy going.

First, he hadn’t been ready to go when Alice had shown up at his apartment. That put her in a sour mood right from the start. Then the line at airport security had been a full on nightmare, and Alice had spent the whole time telling him they wouldn’t have had to worry about it if he’d only been ready when she told him to be. He’d finally snapped back that not everyone could be as perfect as her, which had been the wrong thing to do, and they’d settled into an icy silence. By the time they got on the plane, he’d just gone the fuck to sleep and stayed that way for nearly the full eleven hour flight. 

The ferry ride had been a little more pleasant. He’d definitely been right about needing time away. As they got further from port and closer to their little piece of paradise for the next five days, he’d felt his anxieties lessening. Now though, he felt filled to the brim with them. It was his only hope for the day to get back on dry land and call it an early night. Vacation could officially start tomorrow as far as he was concerned.

The captain announced over the loudspeaker that they would be back to port in fifteen minutes just as Alice sat back down and placed a glass in front of him. He smiled at her gratefully.

“Thanks,” he said.

“You’re welcome,” she responded politely.

They settled into an uneasy silence as Quentin sipped his ginger ale and stared at the approaching island.

**~~~**

Eliot flicked through his clothes quickly, having already hung them up and color coordinated them in the mahogany wardrobe in their condo. So maybe he’d taken over most of the space available. It wasn’t his fault that he required options.

He pushed half of the hangers to the far left and stared thoughtfully at a dark blue filigree button up. It would have to do.

He heard a low whistle from the bed behind him as he pulled his shirt over his head and reached to pull the new one off the hanger, and he smiled.

“Like the view?” he asked.

Javier said, “Mhm. Remind me again why we’re going out tonight?”

“Because,” Eliot said, turning around as he did up the buttons, “there’s no alcohol in this house, and we want to get drunk on a boat.”

They’d had an early dinner, followed by a much anticipated _dessert_ , and now they were going out on an evening cruise for cocktails and scoping out all that the island had to offer. Which, of course, meant attractive men.

He patted Javier’s knee where he was still wrapped under the white silk sheets as he passed by.

“Get up and get ready, we gotta go,” he said.

Javier sighed but did as Eliot asked.

Eliot stepped out onto the balcony attached to their room and pulled out a cigarette while he waited. He lit it and took a slow drag, closing his eyes as he exhaled. It was a beautiful night. The sun was barely a sliver on the horizon, and the whole sky was painted soft hues of orange and pink over the deep blue water. 

He wondered idly what it would be like to live in a place like this. Would the novelty wear off eventually? Most likely. The beauty on the surface was really meant for tourists, after all. People traveled from far and wide to experience the parties and the views, and then they went back home to their normal, boring lives. 

There were normal people who lived here too though. People who ran the gift shops and cooked in the restaurant kitchens and gave scuba lessons to overly excited children. Did they still find it beautiful or had they seen too many of its faults and experienced too much of its mundanity to still be enchanted by it? Was it better to be a struggling mess in the heart of paradise or was it just the same level of bullshit rebranded?

He jumped as he heard the door behind him squeak on its hinges. 

“You ready to go?” Javier asked.

Eliot snuffed out his cigarette on the ashtray to his left and nodded.

The ride to the dock was short. It was one nice thing about the island being so small. There weren’t many places he could want to go that would be too much of a hassle. They arrived early and settled against the grey stone wall near the ship’s port to wait.

Eliot was people watching mostly. The crowd gathering for the evening cruise was unsurprisingly made up primarily of young adults dressed for a night out. He caught the eye of a man in a fitted navy blue suit, and the man winked at him. Eliot bit his lower lip and smiled back, giving him an intentional once over.

“Think I saw him on Grindr earlier,” Javier mused next to him. “He’s hot.”

Eliot hummed his agreement as the man flashed a smile at him and turned back to the group of people he was with. 

The crowd around them started to murmur and turn their heads, and Eliot followed their gaze to the incoming ship approaching the dock. It wasn’t very big, but he supposed it wasn’t really meant to be. There were strings of lights decorating the sides of the deck standing out against the darkening sky, and he could hear the low tones of music coming from somewhere onboard. The people preparing to disembark now had been the dinner crowd. As the ship docked and slowly lowered its door, he noted it was mostly families and couples weaving their way onto the pier. 

He pushed off of the cool stone wall and pulled out his phone to have his ticket ready.

Most of the people had scattered away in a matter of minutes save for a few stragglers, and he was feeling excitement for the night ahead beginning to buoy in his chest. There were just a few people trickling out of the ship’s doors when he and Javier stepped up to the line preparing to board. 

That was when he caught a flash of bright blonde hair, lit up by the lights on the pier. Then a man stumbled out from behind the blonde, and Eliot’s heart. Stopped in his chest. 

The line in front of him was moving forward, but his feet were frozen in place. 

Quentin turned his head just the right way, and his gaze met Eliot’s. He froze too, eyes wide.

Javier gently placed his hand on Eliot’s elbow, trying to guide him forward, and asked, “You okay?”

Eliot opened his mouth and closed it again. Neither of them had moved or stopped staring.

Finally, he gulped.

“Oh, shit.”

**~~~**

Margo’s face went from amused to full on strategizing right before Julia’s eyes. She wondered briefly what career Margo had fallen into after Brakebills. If she wasn’t CEO by now, her talents were being severely wasted.

She said, “Alright, listen up, because I have one question before we decide how to handle this, and it’s important.”

Julia nodded, “Okay, I’m listening.”

Margo looked her dead in the eye and asked, “Has Quentin really gotten over Eliot?”

Julia stammered.

“Uh, I mean, I don’t really feel like that’s my place to. I mean, he’s with Alice now?” she tried.

Margo rolled her eyes. 

“Answer the damn question, Wicker,” she said. “We’re both breaking the best friend code by talking about this, I know, but it’s for their own good.”

Julia exhaled and nodded.

“You’re right, it is,” she said. Still, she felt guilty as she looked Margo in the eyes and answered, “No, I don’t think he has.”

Margo gave her a triumphant grin.

“Perfect,” she said. “Now the real fun can begin.”


	3. Chapter 3

“So we’re in agreement that we’re full on parent trapping these bitches, right?” Margo asked.

Julia chewed on her lip, fighting back a smile as she looked at Margo’s expectant face. She’d seen this look many times before, and it always preceded what would either be one of the best or worst things she’s ever done.

This one was unquestionably a really bad idea. In so many ways. But. She also knew that Quentin wasn’t happy and that this trip wasn’t going to work. He hadn’t actually _been_ happy since he and Eliot broke up, and two years was a long time to sit by and watch your best friend suffer. If she could maybe steer him in the right direction, it might be worth all the trouble for him to have some closure in that relationship if nothing else came of it.

“Q is gonna kill me,” she said, feeling her own capitulation coming on.

Margo grinned like the cat who knew she’d caught the canary.

She said, “Oh come on, it’ll be a fun story for our bridesmaid speeches.”

Julia laughed then and shook her head.

“Fine,” she said, which made Margo clap her hands excitedly. “What do you have in mind then?”

Just as Margo held up a finger and opened her mouth, her phone rang. She plucked it off the sofa next to her and looked at the screen. Then she turned it around to Julia, who saw Eliot’s name on the caller id.

“They make this too easy,” she said.

Julia laughed, which was abruptly cut off as Margo answered and put the call on speaker. She leaned back against the sofa cushions, holding the phone up next to her face.

“Hey, El, how’s Greece?” she asked.

Eliot sounded a little out of breath and also like he was trying to muffle his voice as he rushed out, “We have a major problem, Bambi.”

Margo raised an eyebrow as she fought back her smile.

“How major?” she asked. “And why do you sound so weird? Are you in a bathroom or something?”

“Yeah, yeah but that’s not the point. Focus, please,” Eliot brushed off the second half of her question. He continued, “I’m talking worse than the time we accidentally cursed an entire first year class to sing ABBA and almost got expelled.”

“Ah, the good old days,” Margo said wistfully.

He groaned at her and said, “Remind me never to call you in a crisis again.”

“Eliot, just spit it out,” she sighed.

“Fine,” he said. “I was going out for drinks just now with Javier, and you will never believe who I saw.”

He paused for dramatic effect, and Margo said dryly, “The suspense is killing me.”

“It was Quentin,” he said.

She opened her mouth in a silent, excited gasp and looked at Julia, who gave her a thumbs up and motioned for her to respond to him.

“Oh fuck, what is he doing there?” she asked, and it almost sounded believable. It probably worked in her favor that Eliot was freaking out too much to hear the smile creeping into her voice.

“I don’t fucking know!” he said, his voice rising both in pitch and volume. He lowered it again and added, “He was with that mousy blonde girl from his year. What was her name? Allison?”

“Alice Quinn?” Margo asked.

“Sure,” Eliot replied.

“Alright, so you ran into your ex,” she said, “What are you gonna do about it? Can’t very well kick him off the island.”

There was a short silence, and Eliot sounded truly defeated as he answered, “I don’t know. I don’t think I can…”

Without missing a beat, Margo suggested, “You could just come home early. Your new boytoy has a private jet, right?”

Julia waved her hands at Margo and whispered, “No!”

Margo simply held up her hand, telling her to wait. There was another beat of silence and then Eliot sighed.

“No,” he said finally, his voice reclaiming some of its usual conviction. “I came here to have a good time, and that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll just have to avoid him for the next four days.”

Julia gave Margo a disbelieving smile. She really was far too good at this. Margo winked at her in response.

“That’s my boy,” she said proudly. “It’s only four days, right? Easy peasy.”

“Right,” he said. “Thanks, Bambi. Now, if you’ll excuse me, there are plenty of eligible men waiting for me on this cruise ship who are not my ex-boyfriend.”

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” she said.

“Text you later,” he replied.

Then the phone went silent, and Margo locked it before setting it aside. She folded her arms over her chest and looked back at Julia.

“Well, that’s Eliot sorted for tonight,” she said. “I figure we give them the evening to freak out a little bit before we enact part one of my master plan.”

“Dare I ask what that is?” Julia asked.

Margo grinned at her and stood up. Julia did the same.

As Margo walked into the kitchen to grab her purse and stuff her phone back inside it, she said, “Just talk Q down from the ledge when he calls you tonight, and come to my place tomorrow for brunch. I’ll text you the address. Be kinda early though because we’re working with a time difference, and we need to get all the details sorted out in advance.”

Margo made it to the door, and Julia called, “Wait.”

She turned around and Julia cleared her throat. “I just need to know one thing because Quentin could really get hurt here, so I have to ask.”

“Go on,” Margo said curiously.

Julia sighed and asked, “Does Eliot, you know, still love him? Because the way things ended… You have to know that Q was devastated. I won’t put him through that again.”

Margo turned to face her fully then with a serious expression, and Julia was almost prepared to be yelled at for asking. She stood her ground though. Margo had essentially asked her the same thing earlier after all.

“Eliot was an idiot,” Margo said, “but believe me when I say that breaking up with Quentin is the biggest regret of that boy’s life, and that is not a short list.”

Julia nodded. She had a lot more questions to be honest, but she figured the answers probably weren’t her business. As long as she wasn’t setting Q up for failure, that’s all she needed to know to give it a try.

“We good now?” Margo asked.

Julia agreed, because what else was she to do, and said goodbye as Margo disappeared into the night. After she’d gone, Julia went back into the living room and plopped down on the couch. She looked around the room and laughed in disbelief.

What the hell had she just gotten into?

**~~~**

Quentin didn’t call Julia that night, but he did text her. After a fight with Alice that he was sure the whole building heard.

After Eliot had stumbled onto the boat (with his boyfriend?), and Quentin had picked his jaw up off the floor, they’d gone straight back to their place. Alice had said nothing since they left the docks.

Quentin mostly did his best to melt into the back of the taxi’s seats and _not_ have a panic attack. It was easier said than done.

He hadn’t seen Eliot since, well, since the break up. Two years ago. To say it caught him off guard to spot him in a crowd on a Greek island halfway around the world was the understatement of the century.

What was he _doing_ there? And to add insult to injury, he’d been with that guy behind him, right? Quentin supposed he didn’t have room to speculate about that, considering the reason for his own presence on the island. Still. He’d known Eliot would move on but, blocking him on every social media platform and not seeing him for two years had done a lot for Quentin’s denial.

And back to the original, more important point: _what was he doing there??_

Once they’d gotten back to the condo, it had taken about thirty seconds of Alice passive aggressively setting things down loudly on counters for him to sigh and lean against the back of the couch facing her.

“Just say it,” he said.

She looked up at him and exhaled quickly, her face a storm of emotions. Then she crossed her arms over her chest and pinned her shoulders back.

“Okay, fine,” she said, her voice clipped. “Did you know that he was here?”

He gave her a withering look.

“Does it look like I knew he was here?” he asked incredulously.

She stared at him. “That wasn’t a no.”

He lifted his arms out to his sides as he quickly pushed off the couch into a standing position. His voice rose as said, “Yep! You caught me, Alice. It was my plan all along to bring you to a remote island halfway around the world with my fucking ex-boyfriend to save our relationship. How could that have possibly gone wrong?!”

She groaned at him as she breezed past him and into the opening of the hallway.

“Sarcasm doesn’t look good on you, Q,” she said.

“Well, maybe don’t ask stupid questions then!” he shot back.

“I don’t know why you’re the one upset right now!” she yelled back at him.

Baffled, he asked, “Why are you upset?!”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“You know why,” she said.

He was genuinely staring at her like she’d grown an extra head, and he couldn’t make himself stop. She looked at him for about two more seconds before spinning on her heels and saying, “I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Quentin.”

He was still standing in the living room, dumbfounded, when she slammed the door behind her.

“What the hell was that,” he muttered into the empty room.

His question went unanswered as he turned and sat down in a chair at the kitchen counter. He tucked one foot under him and placed the other on the rungs of the chair as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. Now that he was connected to wifi, he had a few notifications on his lock screen. Most noticeably, he had an all caps text from Julia several hours ago telling him to call her. He could take a wild fucking guess what that was about. He opened their thread to reply.

_can’t call right now. long story. but uh, i saw eliot tonight?_

He hit send then paused before adding ‘ _kinda freaking out tbh_ ’.

By his math, it should still be afternoon in New York, so he was really hoping Julia would respond. He could use a voice of reason right about now. Thankfully, it only took her a few minutes.

_Yeah, I kind of figured out he was there a few hours ago from Instagram. I tried to warn you. What happened?_

He could practically hear the implicit ‘I told you so’ regarding his cell phone access. Ignoring that, he pressed on.

_nothing happened. i just saw him, panicked, and then we left._

_Is Alice upset?_

He almost laughed out loud at that one but not because he found it funny.

_ha, yeah you could say that. idk what to do. maybe i should just call it and go home now._

He thought about the message he’d just sent and realized kind of shockingly how true it rang for him. Really, what was he still doing here? Fixing things with Alice had been hopeless from the start, and some part of him had always known that.

_Come on, Q. It’s only been a day. I’ve never known you to give up that quickly at anything._

He typed, then paused. Then hit send.

_it’s over with alice, jules. i think i knew that, but seeing eliot tonight just...made me realize._

That was the crux of it, wasn’t it? He’d been happy kidding himself with Alice, even through the constant arguments. She was everything he should want for himself, and he did want her. Just. Not like he wanted Eliot, even now. Which wasn’t fucking fair but it was the truth. He thought maybe he’d just convinced himself it wasn’t until tonight.

Her response came through, and he stared down at it miserably.

_I think you should sleep on it and see how you feel tomorrow. Don’t make big decisions when you’re upset._

He sighed. There was that voice of reason.

_you’re right, i’ll go to bed. oh wait, pretty sure i’m sleeping on the couch tonight anyway, so i’m already halfway there._

He could almost see the look Julia would give him in response to that, and it made him smile just the slightest at her reply.

_Get some rest, Coldwater. Love you._

_love you too, night_

**~~~**

The next day found Eliot lounging in the sunshine, a drink in one hand and the other dangling off the side of his pool chair. He took a long sip, draining the rest of his drink, and set it on the table to his right. The place they were staying was so ridiculously over the top that they had an actual _staff_ who no doubt would be by to collect it and bring him another one. He thought he could maybe get used to that, if he was honest. Not that the drinks were as good as he would make them, but he could sacrifice a lot in the name of convenience. And right about then, anything that allowed him to day drink himself into sweet oblivion next to a pool with a view of the ocean was _very_ convenient.

He heard the spring of the diving board and lowered his sunglasses just in time to see Javier dive into the clear blue water. He came up seconds later and shook his head, sending droplets from his hair spraying all around. There was also that view, which wasn’t inconveniencing him in the slightest either. He was having quantifiably the perfect day.

“Would you like another, sir?”

He turned his head to see a server to his right and said, “Yes, please. Oh, and make it a double!”

The server nodded at him before heading back towards the bar. He sighed. He could really get used to this.

His phone buzzed next to him, and he reached for it blindly and held it in front of his face. It was Margo.

_How’s island life today?_

He took a quick photo of Javier preparing to dive again and sent it to her.

_The view is exquisite. You were right, this is easy._

She sent back a winky face followed by several eggplant emojis. He laughed to himself. God, he loved her.

_Damn right, I was right. And I have more good news for you._

The server came back with his drink, and he nodded his thanks at her before reaching for the glass.

_Oh, do tell._

She was taking an awfully long time to type, and he was growing more suspicious by the second. ‘Good news’ coming from Margo could honestly be anything.

_You and your eye candy are going out for a nice dinner tonight on me. I’ve already made the reservations, so don’t try to argue with me. Consider this my long distance ‘sorry you ran into your ex’ best friend gesture. 7pm and dress nice._

There was the name of a restaurant and an address included at the bottom of the message. Eliot’s immediate reaction was to tell her that this was extremely unnecessary and that he was _fine_ , but he knew she meant well. He also knew that she was using their Special Occasions Only magically enchanted credit card which they would never receive a bill for, meaning it was really no expense for her. So.

_You’re the best, Bambi._

_I know._

**~~~**

“Is this really gonna work?”

Margo was busy piling up plates with eggs and pancakes and didn’t bother turning around to answer, “Of course it’s going to work. I’m a genius.”

Julia couldn’t help but realize she didn’t think she’d ever seen Margo cook before. Not that she’d thought she couldn’t, but she could only ever remember Eliot in the kitchen.

“Fuck,” Margo said, jerking her thumb back from the stove top.

Julia laughed. And that was most likely why.

“Shut up, I’m making you brunch,” Margo snapped, turning to glance at Julia over her shoulder.

She held her hands up and zipped her lips.

“That’s more like it,” Margo said, her mouth quirking into a smirk.

Julia looked around the apartment while Margo finished up in the kitchen. It was a decent sized space for New York City and decorated exactly as she would have expected considering Eliot and Margo lived here. That is to say, it looked like the home of royalty. Everything from the furniture to the provocative art on the walls screamed elegance. She wouldn’t have expected any less from the two of their combined styles.

Margo sat a plate down in front of her at the dining table, and she turned around to see a truly delicious looking spread.

“Thanks, Margo,” she said. “You really didn’t have to do all this.”

Margo waved her off as she sat down in the chair opposite her.

“Consider it my payment for dragging you across the city,” she said, “and for being my partner in crime.”

Julia took a bite of syrup soaked pancakes and nearly moaned around her fork.

“Consider your payment accepted,” she said.

When she opened her eyes, Margo was grinning at her.

“Alright, keep it in your pants, Wicker,” she said. “It’s just a pancake.”

Julia blushed and brought her hand to her mouth as she laughed around the bite she’d just taken. Margo only sipped her coffee with a smug look on her face in response. Julia grabbed her own coffee and took a sip of it before she could recover.

“Anyways,” she said, “I honestly can’t believe Quentin is going along with it.”

“It’s free food,” Margo said as she stabbed a chunk of scrambled eggs. “Of course he said yes.”

Julia said, “I don’t know. You didn’t hear him last night. He was ready to break up with Alice and hop on the next flight home, and I kind of feel bad for not telling him to just do it.”

Margo shook her head. “Nope, no cold feet now. If we’re doing this, we’re sticking to the plan.”

“I know, I know,” Julia replied.

Margo looked at her.

She asked, “What’s the deal with him and Quinn anyways? I don’t remember them being friends back at Brakebills.”

“They weren’t, really,” Julia said. “We had a few classes with her, and I think they worked a few group projects together. Quentin met her again when he started working at Brakebills.”

“Ah yes, Professor Coldwater,” Margo mused. “What’s he teach again?”

“Fillorian History and Culture,” Julia said.

Margo laughed. “He’s such a nerd.”

“So are you,” Julia pointed out.

“Anyways,” Margo said pointedly, and Julia laughed to herself. “Doesn’t sound like they’re a match made in heaven?”

“No,” Julia admitted. She pushed around her scrambled eggs as she considered how to best explain it. She finally said, “I think he really wanted them to be perfect for each other, and I hoped they would be too.”

“But?” Margo asked.

“It’s never really worked,” she said, “and I think Q is finally seeing that.”

Margo seemed thoughtful while she chewed her pancakes, and Julia leaned back in her chair to look at her.

She asked, “So, what about Eliot? Isn’t he with someone now too?”

Margo sat down her fork and shook her head.

“God no,” she said. “He met Javier in Ibiza like three weeks ago. I’ll be surprised if El remembers his name by next month.”

Julia felt a sharp defensive spark light up in her chest. So that’s what he’d left Quentin to be? Just some playboy who went through men like they didn’t matter? She had half a mind to go to Greece herself and tell him off.

“I can see you judging,” Margo said, bringing her focus back.

Julia bristled, “I’m not judging. I just…”

“Expected better from him?” Margo supplied.

Well, yes, but that was judging, wasn’t it? And besides, it wasn’t Eliot’s behavior that she took issue with. It was how it affected her best friend. She sighed.

“Let’s just leave the drama for the boys to work out,” she said instead.

Margo gave her an approving smile then.

“I couldn’t agree more,” she replied. Then she folded her arms in front of her on the table and looked at Julia, all hostility faded away. “Now, are we really going to talk about Eliot and Quentin all day? Because I’d like some part of this social call to pass the bechdel test.”

Julia laughed, “Okay, you have a point. So, what have you been up to these last two years?”

**~~~**

“I don’t really see the point of this,” Alice said, for probably the third time since Quentin had told her about the dinner.

He sighed and adjusted his tie.

He said, “I told you, Julia booked it without asking me first. I tried to tell her no, but…”

“But it’s Julia,” Alice finished for him.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “She means well.”

She walked over to him and batted his hands away so that she could fix his tie herself. He exhaled and looked at her. She was concentrated, not meeting his eyes.

“There,” she said, stepping back to look at her work.

“Thanks,” he said.

She gave him a quick smile and nodded.

Things between them had been tentatively better since the night before. They’d spent the day on the beach, mostly reading their respective books and ignoring each other. It was peaceful though, which Quentin was grateful for.

He looked at her now, and she was worrying her lip and wringing her hands. Her eyes darted all over his face, and she exhaled heavily.

“I’m tired of fighting with you,” she said.

He laughed. “God, me too, Alice.”

She laughed too then settled into a gentle smile.

“So let’s not fight tonight,” she said. “Let’s just have a nice night out.”

He gave her a grateful smile and nodded.

“That sounds great,” he agreed.

The restaurant was busy when they showed up. He could see why Julia had made reservations for them. They weren’t likely to have gotten in at all if they’d left it to chance. They brushed through the crowd waiting outside and up to the host’s table, who met them with a polite smile.

“Table for two?” he asked.

“We should have reservations,” Quentin answered.

The man flipped to another book and said, “Ah, what’s the name then?”

“Coldwater,” he said.

The host skimmed his finger down a long list of handwritten names before reaching for his pen and marking one off.

“Right this way, please,” he said, grabbing two menus.

He led them through the front of the restaurant, weaving through tables and waiters on the way. Once they’d reached a quieter area, he glanced over his shoulder at them.

“You’re lucky I was able to fit your friends in at the last minute,” he said. “We’re usually booked up.”

Quentin frowned and glanced at Alice, who shrugged at him.

He asked the host, “What do you mean, our friends?”

Instead of answering him, the man turned a corner and gestured to a table for four in front of him.

“Here we are,” he said.

There were two people already seated at the table, and Quentin’s curiosity was piqued as he stepped around the man to get a better look at them. Then, he froze.

“What the fuck?” Alice asked from behind him.

Eliot looked up from his menu, nearly choked on his wine, then cleared his throat. The man with him gave him a baffled look as Eliot leaned back into his chair with a polite little wave at them.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said.

Quentin gaped at him then back at Alice.

 _What the fuck_ , indeed.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a little less Margo and Julia in this chapter, but I think you'll see why!

For about five seconds that felt more like a small eternity, Quentin could only stare. Then, the restaurant’s host cleared his throat, and he snapped out of it.

Quentin turned to him and said, “There’s been a mistake, I think. My friend, Julia, said she made a reservation for me and my girlfriend.”

He only looked at the host while he was talking. Not at Alice. Not at Eliot. He could only focus his attention on this one task or else he was going to fucking scream.

The man was looking exceedingly uncomfortable, which Quentin felt a tiny bit of sympathy about somewhere amidst the blind panic. Uncertainly, he said, “Yes, and then your girlfriend called back and said that you needed to add two more guests under the name of Waugh.”

Quentin turned to Alice, and she scoffed. 

“I certainly did not,” she said.

There was another uncomfortable silence, and the host shifted anxiously on his feet, throwing a glance back at the crowd gathering around his stand at the front of the restaurant.

“I would offer you another table, but as you can see, we’re completely booked tonight, and it would be probably an hour’s wait at least, but I could try to…” he trailed off, looking lowkey frantic as he searched for a suitable solution.

Quentin sighed.

“It’s okay, it’s not your fault,” he said. “There’s been some kind of miscommunication, but we’ll figure it out.”

The host visibly relaxed and said, “Oh, thank you. Um, your server will be out shortly. I’m sorry, again.”

With that, he was gone and Quentin was left with the last surprise dinner party he’d ever wanted staring at him expectantly. He looked around, not quite meeting anyone’s eyes, and said, “Well?”

Everyone was quiet for a moment longer, and then Eliot cleared his throat. Quentin forced himself to look at him.

“I think we can all agree that we’ve clearly been set up,” he said, “but as long as Margo’s paying for it, I don’t see why we can’t have a nice dinner and order enough wine to drown a small army while we’re at it.”

From behind him, Alice asked, “Why would Margo be paying for it? Q said Julia made these reservations.”

Eliot actually looked sort of amused as he turned to her and said, “Yeah, and Margo told me the same thing. Does that seem like a coincidence to you?”

Alice frowned. “But why would they do that?”

Quentin met Eliot’s eyes briefly, and it was clear that they both knew _exactly_ why their best friends would do this. The person who didn’t need to know that though was Alice, and the slight raise in Eliot’s eyebrows told him that Eliot was leaving it to him to explain this one away.

“I’ll talk to Jules about it later,” he said, “but Eliot is right. It’s so late that all the other restaurants are most likely packed by now, so staying here is probably our best bet at having dinner tonight.”

He turned to Alice, and she looked like she would definitely prefer to starve rather than stay here. There was no way this would end well. No way at all. Still, she settled into a look that read as resignation with a huff. 

“Fine,” she said.

She stalked forward defiantly and sat down in the seat next to Eliot, who watched her with an amused grin. Quentin followed and sat down across from her, giving a quick, polite nod to the man next to him. 

Eliot turned and reached out his hand towards Alice and said, “I don’t think we’ve formally met, by the way. I’m Eliot.”

She picked up her menu and glanced at him over the top of it.

“I know who you are,” she said.

Eliot didn’t seem to take offense as he pulled his hand back. If anything, he seemed to be gratified by the hostility with which Alice clearly regarded him. It made a spark of anger flare to life in Quentin’s stomach. God, he’d forgotten how arrogant Eliot could be. 

Then Javier cleared his throat.

“Uh, I’m Javier,” he said.

Alice didn’t look up, but Quentin gave him a tight smile.

“Quentin,” he said.

The attempted pleasantries fell into a tense silence as they all looked down at their menus. 

A nice, oblivious server came to take their orders and fill their wine glasses, and the silence stretched on into extremely uncomfortable territory. Eventually, Javier broke the silence.

“So,” he said conversationally, “how do you two know Eliot?”

Quentin closed his eyes, silently cursing the man next to him for his clumsy attempt at levity, and Alice quickly said, “I don’t.”

Javier, clearly confused, started, “But I thought you said--”

“Quentin and Alice were in the year below me at Brakebills,” Eliot explained.

Quentin’s head shot up, and his glare focused across the table at Eliot then. 

“Seriously?” he asked. That was how Eliot was explaining their history?

Eliot opened his mouth to respond, but Alice cut in before he could.

“How do you know Eliot, Javier?” she asked sweetly.

Quentin picked up his glass of wine and took a large gulp.

“We met at a party in Ibiza,” he said.

Quentin thought bitterly, _Oh good, they met in Ibiza, which is basically just one big beach orgy_. Not that he’d ever been, but Eliot had filled him in on the annual event during his first year at Brakebills. Margo had gone without Eliot that year, which Eliot would later confess was because he was already falling for Quentin and had stayed for him. 

Figures that’s what he was up to these days. He didn’t think he imagined the way Eliot was avoiding looking in his direction.

“Sounds like fun,” Alice responded.

Javier shot a smirk at Eliot and said, “Oh, it was definitely fun.”

Quentin coughed, and Eliot didn’t look at him or anyone else. So, Quentin rose from the table and excused himself.

“I’m going to the restroom,” he said.

He might as well have said nothing for all the reaction it got him, but he couldn’t have cared less. He just grabbed his phone and walked briskly towards the back of the restaurant and into the men’s restroom. He sighed as soon as he locked the door behind him and leaned against it. 

This was categorically one of the most awkward experiences of his life, and there was only one person he wanted to talk to about it. That person also happened to be partly responsible for it though, and he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to say to her.

He pulled his phone out of his pocket, set it on the bathroom counter, and did a quick tut over it. He knew the spell to unlock it internationally, despite Julia’s offer to do it for him, and he figured there was no benefit to enforced isolation at this point. So, he opened up his freshly accessible phone and clicked on his text thread with Julia.

However, he found himself just staring at the blinking cursor. He didn’t know where to start, so he just went with the strongest emotion he currently felt.

_i’m really pissed at you_

There were a few seconds between the moment he hit send and the second he saw three little bubbles pop up on the screen.

_Oh no, is it bad?_

He snorted quietly to himself.

_well it’s not fucking good. what were you thinking, jules?!_

She took longer to respond that time. 

_I was thinking that you and Eliot needed to talk, and you weren’t going to do it on your own. Also, Margo might have coerced me._

He’d figured Margo was involved. Her influence didn’t excuse what Julia had done, but he could see her good intentions. Even if he didn’t agree with them.

_we’ll talk about this later, but you’d better start making that portal now because i’m gonna need a getaway car by the end of this dinner_

He was only half joking. 

_I’m really sorry it’s that bad, Q. Text me if you need me._

He sighed and slipped his phone back into his pocket. He’d have plenty of time to be mad at her later. Now, he needed to go back out there and make sure there wasn’t battle magic being thrown around yet.

When he made his way back to the table, it was eerily quiet though. He got the distinct impression that none of them had said anything since he’d left. He figured that was probably better than the alternative.

Their server appeared then with their food, and they all tucked in eagerly, relieved to have something to do other than avoid looking at each other. 

Quentin didn’t have much hope that the peace would last.

**~~~**

“So, what have you been up to these last two years?”

The easy atmosphere that had formed between Julia and Margo was refreshing. She watched as Margo leaned back into her chair again.

She calmly answered, “Dismantling the patriarchy.”

Julia laughed, and Margo turned to her with a satisfied grin.

“What?” she asked. “Magicians are just as sexist as muggles, and turns out rich white men with magic are even worse than normal rich white men. My mentor at Brakebills recommended me to a nonprofit working to bring awareness to the gender wage gap in higher paying positions, like Brakebills board members, for example.”

Julia hadn’t really considered the sociopolitical climate amongst magical occupations, if she was honest. She supposed it was a good fit for Margo though, who would raise hell at the first sign of injustice. She was exactly the kind of person the magical community needed on its front lines.

“That’s really cool,” she said. “It suits you.”

“Thank you,” Margo replied, and Julia could tell she was proud, as she should be.

Margo asked, “What about you?”

Julia said, “Believe it or not, I’m doing medical research with Professor Lipson.”

Margo raised an eyebrow at her. She asked, “Weren’t you a knowledge student?”

“Yes,” Julia answered, “but turns out the healing students are pretty shit at adapting their spells if it’s not a textbook problem. That’s where meta-composition comes in.”

“Huh,” Margo said. “At least one of us is using their discipline for more than party tricks.”

She did an unfamiliar tut, and Julia watched as ice climbed it’s way across the table in the shape of a hand flipping her off. She gave Margo a look, and Margo laughed before swiping the ice away with her hand and leaving a perfectly dry table in its wake. 

Julia said, “If you ever want a career in party planning, you’d have the best ice sculptures anyone’s ever seen.”

Margo pursed her lips and nodded. “There’s always that,” she said.

Julia’s phone buzzed on the table between them then, and when she looked down, her heart sank. Margo gave her a confused look.

“It’s Quentin,” she said, “and he’s pissed at me.”

“Well, you knew he would be,” Margo said unhelpfully.

She wasn’t wrong, but a part of her had hoped that things would go well enough to make up for it once he and Eliot actually talked. 

She picked up her phone and sent a couple of messages, trying to explain as much. To her complete lack of surprise, that wasn’t how it seemed to be going though.

“What’s happening?” Margo asked.

“Q says it’s really bad,” she replied.

Margo said, “Well, shit. I’ll be getting a bitchy phone call later then.”

“You and me both,” Julia said.

“Well, in the meantime, I hear an afternoon of mimosas and shitty reality TV shows calling our names,” Margo said, giving Julia a questioning look.

Julia smiled, despite her growing concern over Quentin’s lack of response. 

“You know what? That sounds perfect,” she said.

**~~~**

Eliot had a lot of regrettable moments in his life that he’d like to forget. He could probably fill a whole chalkboard with them, given the chance. This dinner, though, would definitely be making its way towards the top of the list.

None of them had said a single word since Quentin came back to the table. Between the irritated pinch between Quentin’s eyebrows, and the cold he could feel radiating off of Alice next to him, he wasn’t entirely sure where to begin without stepping on a minefield. He had to hand it to Alice though. She knew exactly what she was doing, and the glare she was directing at Quentin rivaled the ones he’d seen Margo give. The two of them would probably get along in another life.

In this life though, Eliot was trying desperately to draw on every social grace he’d ever learned to figure out how to not let this evening end in disaster. He was also simultaneously planning how he was going to get back at Margo for this because she’d done some fucked up shit for sure, but this one might have taken the cake. 

To his surprise, it was Quentin who spoke up first.

“So, how’s Margo?” he asked.

The question was obviously directed at Eliot, which was a shock in and of itself. Still, Quentin didn’t look at him, choosing to look down at his plate instead while he waited for an answer.

Eliot said, “She’s great.” _For now_ , he thought bitterly. Just wait until he calls her later. Then, as carefully as he could, he added, “I think she misses you.”

Quentin looked up at him then, challenging him with a tilt of his chin. He said, “She knows where to find me if she has something to say to me.”

The double meaning was barely subtle. 

Eliot looked back down as he said, “She’s been pretty busy, and I don’t think she knew what to say.”

Quentin scoffed, “I’m sure she could think of something if she really tried. She’s had two whole years to do it.”

Eliot looked back up, and Quentin was staring at him. Eliot really didn’t want to fight with him. Not like this and especially not here. He tried to convey as much with his eyes and was only met with a cold glare in response.

Then Javier, as delightfully oblivious as ever, piped up, “Why don’t you just call her if it’s such a big deal?”

Alice laughed harshly next to Eliot and said, “This isn’t about Margo, Javier.”

He frowned, “I don’t understand.”

She folded her napkin on the table in front of her as she rose from her seat. She looked across the table at him and said, “You seem like a nice guy, so do you want my advice? Get out of here now.” She set her shoulders back, but her voice broke just the slightest bit as she said, “That’s what I’m doing.”

She turned on her heels, and Quentin jumped up from his seat in a hurry.

“Alice!” he called.

He rounded the table, and Eliot grabbed his wrist. 

“Q, wait!” he said.

Quentin froze and pulled his wrist out of Eliot’s grasp like he’d been burned.

“What, Eliot?” he asked shortly.

Eliot swallowed roughly as he looked at him, his face betraying all of the anger he felt. There was something else there too though. Something keeping him standing here instead of running after Alice. It was that tiny bit of hope that Eliot chose to cling on to.

Instead of coming up with anything that might have explained his position though, Eliot only managed to quietly say, “Don’t go.”

As he processed Eliot’s words, Quentin looked like he was caught halfway between crying and telling Eliot to fuck all the way off. What he did, though, was say, “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?”

Then he turned and left, picking up his pace to catch up with Alice.

Eliot watched him go, feeling absolutely stricken as he disappeared into the crowd. He’d had one chance to not fuck this up, and he’d blown it. 

“I’m sensing some history here,” Javier said, bringing his attention back.

“Yeah,” Eliot agreed bitterly.

Javier asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Eliot honestly thought about it. He could spill the whole ordeal here and now to an unbiased outsider and probably get some sympathy out of it. Not that he deserved sympathy. He deserved everything that had come to him.

Javier wasn’t the one he needed to come clean to though, and he’d realized that tonight if nothing else.

So, he said, “No.” He looked up then, meeting Javier’s eyes. “Alice was right though. You don’t want to get involved with my mess, so you’d be better off if you left now.”

Javier smiled at him.

“Eliot,” he said kindly, “we were never getting involved in anything. You’re a great guy, and we’ve had a lot of fun, but I think you need to figure out whatever you’ve got going on here because it seems like it’s important to you.”

Eliot managed a smile and nodded at him. “Yeah, it is,” he admitted.

Javier patted his hand and said, “Then go fix it. And if it can’t be fixed, give me a call. I’ll keep the jet fired up.”

Eliot laughed.

“You’re a good guy,” he said.

Javier grinned at him. “I know.”

He rose from the table then and said, “I’m going to head down to that bar we saw the other night. Call me if you need me.”

“Have fun,” Eliot said.

“Don’t wait up,” Javier called as he left.

Eliot leaned back into his chair and looked around the empty table he was seated at. What the fuck now?

There weren’t many great answers to that question. He didn’t know Quentin’s phone number or where he was staying, even if he wanted to chase him down and beg for him to listen to what he had to say. That was assuming Quentin would even want to see him. Based on tonight’s events, he had plenty of reason to believe that he wouldn’t. He could call Margo and have it out with her, but he found he didn’t quite have the energy for that yet.

Then his eyes fell on an unused napkin in the center of the table, and he got an idea.

He may not know where Quentin is, but he knew how to do a tracking spell. So, he grabbed the napkin and stopped a waiter to ask for a pen. He scribbled down a quick message on it and folded it into the shape of a paper airplane. Then he stood up from the table and made his way outside. Once he’d made it far enough from the restaurant that there weren’t tourists everywhere, he quickly did an enchantment over the paper plane. Then, with every hope he could send along with it, he tossed it into the wind. 

The only thing to do after that was wait.

**~~~**

Quentin had to catch his own taxi back to the condo by the time he left the restaurant because Alice had been long gone. When he arrived, he ran up the stairs and opened the door to find Alice in their bedroom throwing things in her suitcase. She didn’t look up as he entered the room.

“Alice,” he said.

She quickly said, “Don’t, Q.”

He sighed, “Don’t what?”

She stopped then and placed her hands on her hips to look at him. Instead of angry, she just looked exhausted.

She said, “Don’t ask me to stay.” Her voice trembled, and Quentin longed to reach out and comfort her. Somehow, he didn’t think his touch would be much comfort now though. She continued, “Don’t tell me we can make this work, because we both know that we can’t. And don’t… use me to get over Eliot.”

“Alice, that’s never what I was trying to do,” he said.

She smiled at him sadly.

“I know you weren’t,” she said, “but Quentin, can you honestly look me in the eyes after tonight and tell me that you aren’t still in love with him?”

He didn’t say anything, and she turned back to her bag. With one last sweeping look around the room, she zipped it shut as he watched miserably.

“I’m changing my flight, and I’m going back to New York tonight,” she said.

He nodded. 

They looked at each other for a moment before he asked, “Are we going to be okay?”

She looked at him thoughtfully.

“I think I’d like to be friends again, eventually,” she said, “but I’m going to need some time.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” he said.

There was a small part of him that wanted to stop her and make sure she knew that his feelings for her had been real. That he hadn’t been just using her as a consolation prize. It was important to him that she knew that she was worth way more than that. He thought she probably did know that though. She was smart like that, and she was right. It wouldn’t be fair for either of them for him to ask her to stay now. So, he stood by as she finished gathering her things and helped her carry her bags to the car once it arrived outside their building. 

Once she’d loaded the last suitcase into the trunk, she turned to him.

“I hope you figure out what you want,” she said.

“Thank you,” he replied. He shifted from side to side as they looked at each other. Finally, he said, “I hope you’re happy, Alice. You deserve that.”

She gave him a small smile. “I will be.”

Then she got into the car, and he watched as it sped away. It wasn’t how he’d wanted this trip to end, but he thought it was probably inevitable. If not here, it would have happened back home. If Eliot hadn’t been the final straw, something else would have been. He’d been trying to force something for a long time that just wasn’t going to work. Still, watching her go didn’t leave him feeling as relieved as he wished it would. It just left him feeling empty.

He trudged his way back upstairs and into the condo, locking the front door behind him. He was in for a long night, and he thought he probably knew what the first thing on his to do list was. So, he poured a glass of wine from the bottle they’d bought the other day and grabbed his phone. He slid open the door to the small balcony and sat down in a chair at the little glass table. Just as he was opening his contacts list to click on Julia’s name though, something hit him on the side of the head. 

He looked down at the table, where a folded up napkin in the shape of a paper airplane had just appeared quite literally out of thin air. He looked around and didn’t see anyone nearby, which was even more confusing.

Setting his phone down, he reached for it and opened it. Inside the napkin, there was a message.

_Q,_

_Enchanted this to find you, wherever you are. Meet me at Gialia Beach at 10pm tonight if you want to talk._

_Love, El_

Quentin sat the note down and closed his eyes. Nothing could ever just be fucking simple, could it?


	5. Chapter 5

The girls made it through two episodes of Dance Moms before Julia realized that their phones had been silent the whole time. Somewhat worried, she unlocked hers and opened her text thread with Quentin. He still hadn’t replied since her last message.

She asked, “Do you think it’s weird that we haven’t heard from either of them yet? It’s almost ten o’clock there.”

Margo picked up her own phone, which was also void of notifications, and said, “It is a little strange. What do you think they’re up to?” 

“Is it too hopeful to think that they might just be having a nice dinner?” Julia asked.

Margo turned to her with a look, and Julia laughed. Yeah, that was definitely wishful thinking.

“I’m imagining something a bit more Jerry Springer,” Margo mused.

Julia gave a surprised laugh at that. She said, “Well, let’s hope not.”

Margo pulled both of her feet under her on the couch, turning fully to face her, and said, “Switching tracks, you still haven’t told me what the fuck you and Coldwater were doing for a year in Fillory.”

Julia frowned, “It was field research for our dissertations, you knew that.”

“Duh,” Margo said, rolling her eyes, “but I’m talking about the interesting stuff. Don’t tell me the two of you spent a year in a fantasy land out of your favorite kids’ books and didn’t do anything crazy.”

“Honestly?” Julia asked, and Margo sighed.

“God,” she interrupted, “you two really did just spend the whole time researching, didn’t you?”

Feeling a little defensive, Julia said, “There was a lot of work to be done. Of course we got to be tourists some of the time, but we were busy.”

Margo laughed at her, but she had a fond expression on her face. 

“You’re such nerds,” she said.

Julia grinned at her. “You’re just jealous you didn’t get to go.”

Margo turned to her and said, “Honestly? Yeah, maybe a little. It wasn’t exactly all sunshine and roses here.”

Julia had a hunch she was referring to Eliot, and she could relate.

“Yeah, it wasn’t really for us either, at first,” she admitted.

In an uncharacteristic display of openness, Margo went on unprompted.

“I know it was his own fault,” she said, “but Eliot was a wreck for a really long time. He wasn’t okay, and he just didn’t care.”

Julia thought about all the nights she’d watched Q refuse to leave his bed, unwilling to talk to anyone or do much of anything. She’d been really worried. She heard him crying a few times during those first few weeks. He wouldn’t talk to her about Eliot though, so there really wasn’t anything that she could do. It had just taken time.

“Yeah, it wasn’t a good time,” she simply agreed. 

Margo looked at her for a moment. Then she asked, “Do you really think that Q could forgive him?”

Julia exhaled heavily. She glanced down at her hands before looking back up to meet Margo’s eyes.

“I don’t know,” she said honestly, “but I think it’s worth a shot. Things haven’t been the same without the two of you around.”

Margo grinned at her then.

“Don’t get all sappy on me,” she said, and Julia laughed at her, shaking her head. “Besides, who says I’m going anywhere now? Eliot can do what he likes, but I’m not that easy to get rid of.”

Julia’s laughter settled into a smile. She asked, “You promise?”

Margo held out her pinky finger, and Julia gave her a look.

“What?” Margo asked. “It’s the most binding of promises.”

Julia bit back a laugh as she reached out her own hand and wrapped her pinky finger around Margo’s. Margo looked at her, her eyes full of mirth but also something a bit more serious.

“I promise,” she said.

Somehow, Julia believed it. Some part of her world shifted on its axis as if it were returning to its natural equilibrium. Maybe some good would come out of this afterall. She could only hope the same would be true for Quentin and Eliot, whatever they were up to right now.

**~~~**

The beach was quiet, with only the rhythmic sound of crashing waves against the pebbled shore interrupting the stillness of the night. It was a decent sized public beach that was definitely closed for the evening, if you weren’t a magician who could pick a lock. Because of that, Eliot had the place to himself.

He was sitting a few feet away from the tide, one leg outstretched in front of him and the other pulled to his chest. He’d rolled his pant legs up somewhat carelessly to avoid accidentally getting them wet. Thus far, that hadn’t been much of a problem though. He glanced down at his phone. 10:05pm. Five minutes was barely enough time to get worried that Quentin might not be planning to show, so he picked up another rock and tossed it into the waves. 

The moon was nearly full, and it shone bright against the black water. It was washing the beach in so much light that it didn’t feel as late as it actually was. There was a cool breeze blowing in though, reminding him that it had been awhile since the sun set. He shivered against it slightly. Maybe he should have brought a jacket.

He hadn’t really bothered to think the weather forecast through. Or really any part of this plan, if he was being honest with himself. It had seemed like a good idea when he’d fled the restaurant after their disastrous dinner, but now that he was here, he wasn’t quite as convinced of his own genius.

What would happen if Quentin did show up? What did he have to say to him? That he was sorry?

He _was_ sorry. He’d been young and dumb and afraid. A simple apology didn’t feel like enough though. Quentin had moved on, and judging by the way he’d run out after Alice, he was probably begging her to stay at that very moment. What right did Eliot have to insert himself in the life Quentin had made for himself in Eliot’s absence? To ask for forgiveness? To explain himself?

He looked down. 10:15pm.

He had been stupid to assume that Quentin would want to hear anything he had to say. He’d been right, in the restaurant. Eliot had had two years to come up with an apology, and what had he done with that time? He’d run away. As far and as fast as he could. He’d spent two years running right into the arms of any man who maintained eye contact for more than three seconds, and he’d told himself that it was good. It was helping. He was getting back to the person he really was, at his core. 

Eliot Waugh was a hedonist who didn’t waste his time with personal commitments or the drama that came along with it.

That was all a fucking lie though, wasn’t it? Maybe he had been that, once. Maybe it had been the thing he’d needed to be when he was running away from a hellish, small Indiana town and a past that threatened to stifle every good thing about him. Maybe running as hard and fast as he could in the opposite direction had been the thing that saved his life. Until he’d met Quentin and all of that had fallen away.

Then, in true Eliot fashion, he’d fucked that up spectacularly.

He almost hated Quentin, for tearing down his tried and true coping mechanisms. For taking this part of himself away from him. Before he’d known what it felt like to give yourself to another person fully, to love and to be loved in return, all of that had been enough. Now it fucking wasn’t.

Maybe that was the point though. Maybe after the storm passes, survival isn’t the same as living. 

He glanced down again.

10:25pm.

He looked to one side of the beach and then the other, seeing only emptiness stretching out on either side of him. Sighing, he leaned back onto his hands. 

He couldn’t bring himself to be surprised as that little hopeful spark in him began to dim. Being stood up was what he deserved, and he honestly should have expected it. He’d had his chance, and people like Eliot didn’t get that kind of chance twice. Still, the part of him that apparently enjoyed being tortured made him wait it out for a few more minutes. Just in case.

When he checked the time again, it was 10:30pm.

He had his answer.

**~~~**

Quentin paced furiously across the living room of his condo, the note gripped tightly in his hand.

He wasn’t going to meet Eliot. He couldn’t. 

Could he?

No. There was nothing that Eliot could say to him that would change what he’d done. Quentin had thought, for a long time, that he wanted Eliot to call him up and apologize. He’d wanted it more than he wanted anything because if Eliot apologized, then Quentin could forgive him and maybe they could get back what they’d lost. That had been the bargaining phase. 

He knew better now though. Sure, it would have been difficult to contact him while he was in Fillory, but what was Eliot’s excuse for when he was back home for Christmas break? Or for the previous 12 months when they’d both been living in New York with nothing stopping him from reaching out? If he had something to say for himself, he could have said it then. 

Instead, he’d blocked Quentin on every social media platform and essentially disappeared from his life like he’d never been there at all.

He looked at the clock on the wall. 10pm.

Well, his time spent agonizing over his thoughts had made his decision for him, and it was probably just as well. Nothing good was likely to come from digging up the past.

He sat down on the couch and leaned into the cushions with a heavy exhale. Eliot’s note was still clutched in his hand, and he opened it again. It was so Eliot, to go for the most dramatic option possible. Sneaking onto a beach at night to meet like secret lovers in a romance novel. It was the sort of thing that would have made Quentin’s heart race back when they were young and in love, oblivious to the life stretched out in front of them. Eliot was impulsive, sometimes reckless, and Quentin loved the rush he got from trusting him enough to go along with his wild schemes. 

That was before he’d known how much he was risking. He knew now.

But then again, Eliot had reached out this time and made it his choice to say yes. He hadn’t promised him anything in this note. Just to talk. Maybe he wasn’t even going to apologize or maybe he would, and it wouldn’t be enough. The ball was in Quentin’s court, but he honestly wasn’t sure what he could hope to get out of a conversation with Eliot at this point. Maybe closure? It might just make things worse, to open up old wounds. Or it might not. 

He realized, somewhat suddenly, that he wasn’t going to find out unless he went to meet him. Could he live with himself if he didn’t at least hear Eliot out?

He looked at the clock again. 10:15pm. Eliot might still be there if he left now.

He looked down at the note again and ran his thumb across the signature at the bottom. Fuck it. He was going to go.

He grabbed his phone and his keys before hurrying out the door and all but running towards the beach Eliot had specified. 

It wasn’t very far away, not far enough to need to call a car, but it did take him longer to get there than he’d have liked. He would have given anything to be a traveler in that moment. Still, he pushed on across the island, and by the time he saw the sign for Giala Beach, he almost cheered in relief. The gate was propped open with a large rock, clearly Eliot had broken in, and Quentin pushed it all the way open so that he could slip through. 

When he got onto the beach, he stopped a few feet from the water, still breathing heavily from his hurried pace to get there. He looked down one stretch of pebbled shoreline, then the other. 

His heart sank in his chest as he pulled out his phone and looked at the time. 10:35pm.

He was too late. The beach was empty, and Eliot was gone.

**~~~**

_2 years ago_

Quentin was lying across the couch at the Cottage, his feet propped up on the opposite arm rest, while Eliot made himself a drink a few feet away. The Cottage was blessedly quiet for the afternoon, as it was now summer and most students had gone home for the break. Eliot had technically graduated, but most of the third years were sticking around for the summer to figure out their next steps unless they had better things to do. Luckily for Quentin, Eliot didn’t. That meant they could spend their time lazing about with little distractions. It would have been an ideal day under other circumstances. The silence in the Cottage only made the silence between the two of them feel even louder though. 

They’d been lowkey arguing around the same topic for weeks, and they’d reached yet another dead end.

Quentin found out in April that he, along with Julia, was approved for his field research sabbatical in Fillory. He would get to spend his whole third year in the fantasy land of his childhood dreams, with his very best friend in the world, doing research for his dissertation. Even better, the dean had heavily implied that there might be a teaching position available for him on the other side of it after graduation. It was the opportunity of a lifetime. However, it meant leaving his boyfriend of two years for a whole 12 months on literally another planet.

There was long distance, and then there was _that_.

Eliot was supportive, of course. He knew what this meant to Quentin, and he had enthusiastically insisted that he had to go. Quentin wasn’t so sure though. He’d come to Brakebills hoping to find magic and adventure, and he had found that. He’d also found Eliot. When he weighed the option of potentially losing the latter in favor of chasing his childhood escapism fantasy, he found himself preferring the real world for the first time in maybe his entire life. 

He wanted to choose Eliot. 

The problem was that Eliot didn’t want him to. Quentin, frankly, had had enough of Eliot telling him that he couldn’t make the choice for himself. He’d stared at the ceiling long enough after their last conversation about it that he reached his conclusion. He was staying. Eliot could do with that what he liked, but it was what he wanted. There were other ways for him to have both of his dreams, and he was going to find them. So, he sat up and walked over to the bar.

Eliot looked up at him, somewhat sheepishly, as he approached. Quentin could have let the argument slip to the side again. He knew Eliot would let him if he wanted to kiss and make up, leaving the discussion for another day. He didn’t though. It was time for this back and forth to end.

So, he stopped on the other side of the bar from Eliot and stared at him until Eliot stopped what he was doing and met his eyes. They looked at each other like that for just a moment. He thought he could see Eliot silently begging him to drop it. To not say what he’d come to say.

Still, he said it.

“I’m not going to Fillory.”

Eliot said, “Q, think about what you’re saying.”

“I’ve thought about it,” Quentin argued, “and this is what I want to do. There are other ways for me to do my dissertation without spending a year away from you. I’ll just have to talk to Dean Fogg and figure it out.”

Eliot’s eyes darted to the side as he sighed in exasperation. They’d had this conversation so many times. Quentin was determined that this one would be the last one though.

“El, look at me,” he said softly. Eliot looked back at him then, his eyes glassy as he pushed his lips together in a thin line. He continued, “You’re too important to me. _This_ is too important to me. I don’t want to lose you.”

Eliot stared at him for a moment, his eyes searching, before he asked, “But what about your future?”

Quentin walked forward until he could take one of Eliot’s hands in his and lace their fingers together.

“You are my future,” he said.

To his great surprise, Eliot didn’t argue with him that time. He only gave Quentin a sad smile and squeezed his hand back. He wanted to ask, ‘ _really?_ ' Was it really that simple, that Quentin could just tell Eliot he was staying and that would be the end of it?

It seemed that way. They’d had a great evening afterwards. He, Eliot, Margo, and Julia played a game of Push that went on until the early hours of the morning. Only one piece of furniture in the cottage become a casualty in the fray of probability magic flying around. So, all in all a successful game night. 

When they’d admitted it was too late to keep going, Eliot and Quentin had crawled into bed in Q’s room and fallen asleep tangled together like they did most nights. It was the next morning that the other shoe dropped. 

Quentin woke up to an empty bed and a note on Eliot’s pillow. 

_Q,_

_I’m sorry, but I can’t keep holding you back. Fillory is your dream, and you’re going to realize one day that I wasn’t worth the sacrifice. You may think this is what you want now, but it isn’t. I love you, and I don’t regret any of our time together, but I think it’s time for us to admit that our time is up._

_Please don’t try to find me. This is my choice._

_Go and live your dream, Q._

_Love always,  
El_

As soon as he finished reading the note, he leapt out of his bed. If he was lucky, maybe Eliot might not have left yet. Maybe he could still talk some sense into him. 

He ran straight down the hall and burst into Margo’s room, the only place he could think to look. He found Margo sitting on the edge of her bed with a note in her hands as well. She looked up at him with an absolutely shell shocked expression on her face and simply shook her head. 

Eliot was really gone. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading this story! <3

The sound of a phone ringing blared through Margo’s apartment, and Julia woke with a start. She opened her eyes and narrowed them as she took in her surroundings. The room was sideways, and she was laying on something soft yet at an awkward angle. The continued ringing of the phone brought her awareness into more focus, and she realized she was laying on something that was _moving_. Quickly, she sat up and realized, to her surprise, she’d been laying on Margo.

The phone was still ringing, but she found herself unable to answer it as the last few hours came back to her in flashes.

They’d been talking about Fillory and the boys, and Margo had kept filling her glass. Julia had gotten tired, and they’d scooted closer and closer as time went on. Margo’s hand had wandered onto her thigh. Julia hadn’t moved it. They’d talked some more, about what Julia couldn’t recall. She could only remember the heat rushing to her cheeks as they laughed and the way it felt to have Margo’s attention fully on her. The way her skin lit up everywhere they touched. Then they must have fallen asleep, together?

“Are you gonna answer that?”

Margo’s half awake and fully annoyed voice snapped her out of it. She glanced at Margo then hurriedly reached for the phone. It was Quentin. 

“Hello?” she asked, very aware of how weird her own voice sounded.

“Hey, Jules.”

Quentin sounded utterly dejected. 

“Hold on a minute,” she said.

She looked at Margo’s raised eyes with a worried expression and pointed to the kitchen, motioning that she was going to go talk in private. Margo nodded, but before Julia could get out of the room, she heard Margo’s phone ring behind her followed by a short expletive. Eliot, then.

Once she’d reached the kitchen, she said, “Okay, I’m back. What’s up?”

“I’m still pissed at you,” he said.

She leaned against the countertop and sighed, “Q.”

“Oh, and tell Margo I said hello,” he added bitterly.

Well, if that wasn’t a loaded comment.

“Yeah, uh, remind me that we gotta talk about that later when you’re not pissed at me anymore,” she said.

He sighed directly into the microphone, and she chewed on her lip as she waited for him to continue.

“Well, I guess I’ll start from the beginning,” he said finally.

And so he told her about everything from the restaurant to Alice leaving to getting Eliot’s note. How he’d agonized over it for so long that he’d been too late, and Eliot had been gone by the time he’d shown up. Now he was pacing across the beach while they talked, in the middle of the night in Greece. 

“Oh, Q, I’m so sorry things didn’t work out like you wanted,” she said.

“You mean like you and Margo wanted,” he shot back.

She said, “That’s fair, but we were just trying to help.”

He was quiet for a moment then said, “Sorry, I know, I’m just.”

It didn’t seem like he was going to finish that sentence, so Julia said, “Yeah, I know.”

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, and he sounded so young, just like the little kid she’d known her whole life who’d always come to her when he needed help. It kind of broke her heart a little bit.

“You know, you could try and find Eliot,” she said. “I have a pretty reliable source who could probably find out where he’s staying for you.”

“No,” Quentin said, “I shouldn’t have gone to meet him in the first place. It was stupid.”

She frowned. “So what, you’re just not going to try again?” she asked.

“No, I’m not,” he said, “and I’m coming back home tomorrow, so don’t waste your time scheming with Margo about it.”

She was quiet for a moment until she couldn’t help it and started to laugh because it was all just so ridiculous, and her smile grew as she heard his quiet laugh on the other end of the line. She felt relief as some of the heavy tension lifted. They would be alright at least.

“What are you going to do now?” she asked.

“Guess I’m gonna walk home,” he answered.

“Okay, just be careful,” she said. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” he said.

The line went dead then, and she stared at her phone for a minute before getting up to walk back into the living room. When she got there, Margo was typing away on her phone. She looked up when she noticed Julia.

“What did Q say?” she asked.

Julia said, “Eliot asked him to meet him at the beach to talk, but he was gone when Q got there. He says it’s over, and he’s coming home tomorrow.”

Margo stared at her. 

“Motherfucker,” she said. “Is Q still at the beach?”

“Yeah,” Julia said hesitantly, “why?”

“So is El,” Margo answered. “He said he got stuck at the exit because of some parade or something.

Julia’s eyes grew wide. 

“What? Q said he didn’t see him and that he was leaving,” she said.

Margo looked back down at her phone, and Julia could only stare at her. They must have been on opposite ends of the beach. If Quentin left, he was never going to talk to Eliot again. Julia was sure of that. For as much of a mess as she’d helped create, she couldn’t let it end like this when they were that close.

“We have to go to Greece,” she said. “Right now.”

Margo looked up to meet her eyes with a smug grin.

“No shit,” she said. “I’m already on it.”

“What do you mean?” Julia frowned.

“Remember that traveler from your class at Brakebills?” Margo asked. “Q’s roommate?”

Julia asked, “You mean Penny?”

“Yeah, I banged him once,” Margo said offhandedly. “He owes me a favor.”

Before Julia even had time to begin to process that, there was a _whoosh_ of air behind her, and she spun around to find herself face to face with Penny Adiyodi.

“Took you long enough,” Margo said as she rose from the couch.

Penny scowled at her.

“I’m not your personal Uber,” he said dryly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Margo waved her hand at him, “One time offer, I know. Now, let’s go.”

Penny rolled his eyes but walked up and put his hand on her shoulder. He turned to Julia.

“You ready?” he asked.

She felt like laughing again. This was just all so insane. Instead, she turned him with a small smile and nodded.

He placed his hand on her shoulder, and then just as quickly as she could blink, they were standing on a busy street in Greece. Apparently Eliot hadn’t been lying because even though she could see the entrance to the beach where he and Q had gone, it was completely walled off by people and barriers. Penny had managed to land them right in the middle of the parade. 

“Who the fuck throws a parade at this time of night?!” Margo asked.

Julia looked around, assessing the situation. There was absolutely no way Q or Eliot had made it out of there, but there was no way they were getting in either without a fight.

“Well, good luck,” Penny said.

Julia turned around to see Margo glaring at him. She said, “The beach is literally right there. Couldn’t you just travel us inside?”

“Nope,” Penny said, and then he was gone.

Margo stared at the spot where he’d been for about two seconds before slamming her fists down at her sides and yelling, “FUCK!”

Yeah, that just about summed it up.

**~~~**

Quentin was fully done after he hung up the phone from talking to Julia. It had been a long night and an even longer week, and he could feel the stress and the exhaustion settling over him. The walk home would be nice to clear his head at least, but what he really wanted was just to get there and go to sleep. That’s why when he reached the gate and found himself blocked inside, he felt the last little bit of his resolve fall apart.

Who throws a parade at this time of night?

Andros, apparently.

He walked closer to inspect the situation and saw that there was a barrier pushed up against the gate he’d come through as well as a wall of people so thick he’d have trouble pushing his way through them if he managed to make it there in the first place. Great. That was just what he needed to make his night better.

He sighed, resigning himself. The parade couldn’t last forever, so he would just have to wait it out. At least the beach was officially closed, so he could find a nice spot and enjoy some quiet while he waited. He turned around to make his way back but froze when he saw that he wasn’t alone anymore. There was someone else standing in the middle of the beach, staring out at the water. He could have sworn the beach had been empty just seconds ago.

Then, the person turned to look at him, and his heart skipped a beat in his chest. It was Eliot. He must have gotten stuck trying to leave too.

They simply stared at each other for a long, tense moment.

Then Eliot sat down on the pebbled shore and tilted his head back at him in question. Well, this was what he came here for, wasn’t it? It wasn’t like there was anywhere else he could go.

So, he braced himself and started walking over to him. It felt like he was dragging his feet through quicksand for all the concentrated effort it took for him to keep moving. Eliot didn’t say anything when he stopped a couple of feet away, so Quentin just exhaled and sat down at his side. There was a calculated distance between them, but he still felt nerves dancing in his stomach. They hadn’t been alone for two years.

Only the sound of the crashing waves accompanied their stilted silence for nearly an uncomfortable amount of time.

Finally, Eliot said, “You came.”

Quentin looked at him and shrugged.

“You said you wanted to talk,” he said.

“I did,” Eliot agreed in that careful tone of his that he used when he wasn’t sure where he stood with someone. Quentin had never heard it used on him before.

He asked, “How does Javier feel about you being here?”

Maybe he was a little stuck on Eliot being with someone else. He was human after all, though.

To his surprise, Eliot laughed. He said, “Q, Javier is not my boyfriend. He’s just a friend.”

“Oh,” Quentin said.

He wasn’t sure if that changed things, but it was good to know.

“How does Alice feel about you being here?” Eliot asked him.

Quentin laughed bitterly.

“Alice isn’t my girlfriend,” he said. “Anymore.”

Eliot winced. He looked actually regretful when he said, “I’m sorry, if that was because of me.”

“It wasn’t,” Quentin said. Not entirely anyway. “It’s been over for awhile.”

Eliot nodded as he turned to look back out at the water. Quentin allowed himself an indulgent moment to really look at him. He’d changed, though Quentin knew he had too. His hair was a little bit longer, and he had more stubble than Quentin had remembered him growing back at Brakebills. His eyes were the real kicker though. They held this haunted look that made Quentin ache to do anything to make it go away. He was still dressed in a style similar to his trademark aesthetic though, and his hands were still twitching nervously at his sides like they always did when he was trying to hide how he really felt. He was still the same Eliot.

The same Eliot that had left him without so much as a goodbye.

Quentin clenched his fists at his sides as he turned to stare out at the waves too.

“You have every right to be angry with me,” Eliot started.

Quentin laughed humorlessly.

“Thanks for giving me your permission,” he bit out.

He knew he wasn’t being cooperative, but he also didn’t see much of a reason to be. When he turned to look at Eliot again though, he deflated just a little as he saw the crestfallen look on his face. He wanted to be mad that seeing Eliot upset still pulled at his heartstrings and made him want to do whatever it takes to fix it. It wouldn’t do any good though. Both he and his traitorous heart knew exactly why.

“I deserved that,” Eliot said.

Yeah, he did. Quentin found himself not wanting to rub it in though.

So, instead, he simply asked, “I guess the one thing I’ve been wanting to know is why? Why did you do it?”

Eliot visibly braced himself before sighing. The expression on his face settled into something more raw, open.

“I was afraid,” he said.

Softly, Quentin asked, “Of what?”

Eliot laughed once. He said, “Of everything?”

“I’m gonna need more than that,” Quentin told him.

Eliot turned to him then, the conviction in his eyes both commanding and mesmerizing.

“I was afraid that you were settling for me,” he said. “I was afraid that years later, when you looked back at that moment, you were going to regret it and resent me for the life you could have lived if you hadn’t chosen me. I couldn’t live with myself in that world, Q. It would kill me.”

Quentin had to take a long moment to process all of that. They’d been so young, and they’d had the weight of the world on their shoulders. All of these decisions in front of them that would shape their lives. Or that’s how it had felt. Quentin had been motivated by one thing at the time, and that thing was the fear of losing Eliot. As if one wrong move would have torn him from his life forever. Even two short years later, he could see now that the world wasn’t quite so black and white. Maybe they’d both been a little afraid.

“Why didn’t you tell me that then?” he asked.

Eliot argued, “I tried!”

“No, you didn’t!” Quentin interrupted. He was circling back to anger now. “You made my choice for me with no consideration for what I was trying to tell you that I wanted! I chose you, Eliot, and I knew what that meant.”

“I,” Eliot started, then he looked down at the space between them. He said, “I know that. Now.”

Quentin stared out at the water, thinking of lost time. Missed chances. Regret. Apologies. Forgiveness. Fear.

“I’m sorry,” Eliot said. 

Quentin turned back to him.

Eliot continued, “I was a coward, and I left because I couldn’t say any of that to your face. I think I knew that if you asked me to, I would have stayed.”

Quentin said, “I wish you would have let me ask.”

Eliot gave him a devastating look, his eyes wet with unshed tears, and he replied, “Me too, Q.”

All Quentin had ever wanted was for Eliot to stay. For Eliot to let _him_ stay. And now, here they were. In a world where Eliot had left, and Quentin had a choice to make.

There was a not insignificant part of him that wanted to cut his losses and go. Let the past stay in the past. Eliot had really hurt him, and all that pain felt almost insurmountable. He’d made a good life for himself over the last two years, and he could just walk away and keep living it. Or, he could be brave and do what his heart was begging him to do. And stay.

He rose from the beach and turned around. With his back to Eliot, he could almost think clearly. He scrubbed his hand over his face and closed his eyes. 

“I don’t know what to say,” he admitted quietly.

He could hear the sounds of the parade quieting in the distance. They’d probably be able to go soon.

Then he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“I do.”

Eliot gently turned him around to face him and brought his hands up to cup Quentin’s face. His fingers were trembling against Quentin’s skin.

“I love you, Quentin,” he said. There was a fierce determination in his eyes and a little quiver in his lips. “I fucked up, and I’m sorry, and I don’t want to live another day without you. Please give me a chance to prove it to you.”

A little involuntary whine forced its way from the back of Quentin’s throat, and he looked between Eliot’s desperately hopeful eyes. Then, before he could second guess it, he leaned up on tiptoes and kissed him.

Eliot stumbled just a little in surprise, but he steadied himself quickly as his hands wrapped around to the back of Quentin’s head and pulled him in closer. Quentin sucked Eliot’s lower lip into his mouth and fully melted into him, trying to convey everything he’d felt since that fateful day at Brakebills. All the pain, loss, yearning, and now, hope, poured into one kiss. Eliot seemed to be doing the same, judging by the desperate way he was sliding one hand down Quentin’s back possessively and digging the other into his hair. They both stayed firmly pressed together, foreheads and noses touching, when they pulled apart for air. 

Eliot’s lips brushed against his as Quentin said, “Okay. Let’s give it a shot.”

Due to their closeness, he could feel Eliot’s smile. He rubbed their noses together gently.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Quentin said, his own lips turning upwards now. “I’m not saying we can go back to the way we were, but maybe we can start something new.”

Eliot leaned forward to capture his lips again, and Quentin sighed softly. Yeah, this was a good place to start.

**~~~**

Julia was experiencing full on sensory overload with the crowds and the music and all the movement around her. It was all culminating in her as a frantic sort of anxiety as she shoved her way past person after person, following behind Margo’s determined march. To Margo’s credit, they were nearly to the gate that led onto the beach. And luckily for both of them, the parade seemed to be nearing its end.

Margo reached blindly behind her and grabbed Julia’s hand as she pushed through the last of the crowd.

“Thank God,” Margo gasped as they came to a stop on the sidewalk.

They were standing in front of a barrier which was now clear since a lot of the onlookers had moved on to follow the parade. Margo grabbed one side, and Julia grabbed the other. It was easy enough for them to push to the side, leaving the propped open gate in front of them.

“Do you think they’re still in there?” Julia asked.

Margo turned to her, her chest heaving with an exhausted sort of relief.

“They better fucking be,” she said.

She took a step forward and pushed the gate all the way open, holding it for Julia as she hurriedly motioned her through. As soon as they’d cleared that final barrier, they practically burst into a run around the fence and the flowering bushes alongside it. The boys just had to be there. They’d come all this way, and the two of them absolutely would search the whole island for them if they had to, but it’d be great if they could just be on this beach and let something be easy for once. 

Just as quickly as they’d started, they came to a screeching halt, nearly falling over each other on the rocks. There, in the middle of the beach, was Quentin and Eliot. The two of them were pressed together in what could only be described as a passionate kiss. Julia stared for just a second before turning to look at Margo. Margo turned around a second later, and the two of them made eye contact for about two seconds before they began to laugh. In disbelief, in happiness, in relief. The last wild hour or so caught up to them in a rush, and they were overwhelmed with it. 

Above their heads, fireworks burst into the sky. It must have been part of whatever celebration the island was having. They looked up then back at each other. The brights blues and greens of the lights lit up their faces in the dark. Margo took a step towards her then, and Julia closed the rest of the distance.

Margo practically dipped her as she pulled her into a kiss, and Julia gasped into it. This was where they had been hurtling all along, she realized. Eliot and Quentin might have been the object of their time spent together over the last few days, but the journey had been leading to something else entirely. To this. 

Margo pulled away after a way too short moment, and Julia chased her to press one more kiss to her lips. Margo gave her a brilliant smile as she pulled away enough to meet her eyes.

Barely able to catch her breath, Julia said, “So, that happened.”

Margo laughed at her fondly.

“Yeah, it did,” she said. “Any objections to it happening again?”

Julia smiled at her.

“Nope,” she said.

They leaned back in again, but they were interrupted just before their lips touched by a distant, “What the fuck?”

They jerked apart only to find Eliot and Quentin staring at them. The four of them looked at each other across the beach for what felt like hours, a mix of confusion and joy and relief flooding between them all. Finally, Quentin began to laugh. Then Julia did too. She looked back at Margo, and Margo laughed too.

Julia turned back to the boys with an amused, “Surprise?”

She felt Margo’s hand take hers as she laced their fingers together, and she met her gaze with a happy smile.

“Come on, let’s give them some time,” Margo said. Then over her shoulder, she called, “You’re welcome!”

She tugged on Julia’s hand, and Julia followed her back to the gate at the entrance of the beach. They’d have time for all of them to talk about all of this and the hilarious few days that had just unfolded, culminating in this improbable moment. For now though, they were all exactly where they belonged, with the spark of new beginnings promising to lead them back home.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are always much appreciated! You can find me on tumblr at eliotapologist.


End file.
